


Teenage Dirtbag

by littleartemis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Crossdressing, Dom/sub, Dominant/Top Castiel, Fingerfucking, M/M, Magic, Praise Kink, Rimming, Spanking, Submissive/Bottom Dean, Top Castiel, deaged, twink!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleartemis/pseuds/littleartemis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets magically deaged so he's physically young again. Problem is he's a 'twink' once more and he can't hunt like this. Frustrated he takes it out on Cas who's getting to the end of his patience and decides a spanking is in order. He just didn't figure in that Dean might enjoy it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one has been edited and updated after a long time with my beta tumblr user ireallyhatecornnuts.

A hunt gone awry. That was how it began.

One minute Dean was at the bunker, fine and dandy; next his clothing was a little too baggy and Sam a few inches taller than he remembered.

More importantly, he was staring down at Dean with wide eyes. When he tried to ask Sam about the deer-in-the-headlights look, his voice had a higher pitch that had the elder Winchester covering his mouth in surprise. Before Sam could say a thing Dean was running to his room - or a bathroom - anywhere with a mirror.

Once inside the bathroom he stood before his reflection, touching his face and that was when it hit him.

Shorter frame, skinnier body, rounder face, lithe limbs: he was a damned teenager again.

His fingers combed through hair which had a lighter colour to it than before; he looked at a face that lacked the hard lines of a life on the road. A life at war with things that went bump in the night. Things he wished he didn’t know existed.

Cursing, he rested his hands on the sink, chewing on his bottom lip. He _knew_ they should’ve iced that witch, but no; Sammy had flashed him the puppy-dog eyes, and that was all she wrote.

Closing his eyes, he ignored the sound of Sam coming up to the doorway. He didn’t even look at him, only saying, “We need to track that son of a bitch, _again_ , and make him reverse this. You get me?”

The tone of Sam’s return, “Okay,” was enough to tell him that his brother was struggling not to visibly laugh at his pain. ‘Yeah, laugh it up, bitch. Just wait ‘til one of ‘em de-ages your ass.’

He was all soft lines, slight chub, and youth; even his _freckles_ were more visible.

Touching his face, he took a deep breath, trying not to let the panic seep in. It would go away. They would get the witch who did this. For now, he’d just need to stay at home base.

A pretty boy like him, appearing to be in his late teens, early twenties? Yeah, he didn’t need the kind of attention that would draw - both from pervs _and_ other hunters. He would be fine here - _safe_.

That was when he heard a familiar tone. “You said something was wrong with Dean?” the low, guttural, rasping, voice had his pulse racing.

He darted from the bathroom, clothes hanging loose from his limbs. “You did _not_ call Cas! What the _fuck_ , Sam?”

The younger brother looked like he was caught with this hand in the cookie jar, smiling nervously as the angel looked Dean over. Within seconds, Cas was all up in Dean’s personal space, and it felt weird as hell to be looking up at him instead of _down_. He was used to being the taller of them, and now he was a couple inches _shorter_ and blushing like a whore in church.

“Personal space!” he barked.

“My apologies. I just wanted to ascertain the damage.” Cas quickly backed up, though he did not stop scrutinizing the hunter.

“Oh, there’s no damage, I’m just an awkward _twink_ again.”

“Do I even want to know how you know what a twink is?” Sam asked. The question has Dean holding his head, feeling a migraine coming on.

“That’s not the point here, Sam. I don’t know what the target age was, but by the looks of things I’m eighteen or nineteen. Twink years.”

“I assume you’re referring to the androgynous features?” Cas said with a slight tilt of his head.

“Not. Helping,” Dean ground out and grit his teeth, eyes narrowed on the angel.

“You’re a pretty boy again, we get it,” Sam said with a sigh, rolling his eyes. “Please tell me I won’t have to deal with old creepy men hitting on you _this time_?”

Dean was getting whiplash from looking from one to the other constantly. “Do I look stupid? Hell no, I’m staying here where it’s comfy and safe. _You_ hunt down the fucker that did this.” He moved up into Sam’s space as he said this, poking the other in the chest for emphasis as he kept his narrowed eyes fixed on his brother’s.

Sam rolled his eyes again. He’d say Dean was acting childish, but honestly, it wasn’t much different from how he acted when he was _normal_. From the look of Castiel’s expression, he wasn’t impressed, either.

“I’m sure Sam will do what is needed. I’m sure he’ll find the witch and fix this.” Cas said, making an attempt at placating the de-aged hunter. “Panicking and getting up in arms about things we can’t control will get you nowhere.”

Once more, green eyes locked on the angel. “Speaking of ‘can’t control’ - can you reverse this?” He looked hopeful until Cas shook his head.

“This is beyond my power, and my grace is unfortunately limited. Better we find the witch and have the witch remove it, or kill them and break the spell entirely.”

“I like the second option more.”

Sam sighed and started to leave; he had research to do. At least he knew who did it already - it was just a matter of tracking them down. He gestured toward Cas, who was by his side in an instant. “Would you be able to help us find the guy if he took off already?”

“Most likely. I don’t think they’ll have thought to ward off angels, so it shouldn’t be hard. I would go out and track them myself, but I don’t want to use my limited resources if I don’t have to.” Dean made an outraged sound and Cas held up his hands, facing him. “Not that I don’t think the situation is dire, but my grace is limited. I’m sure Sam’s tracking skills will be enough to find them.”

This seemed to dissuade Dean who grunted and turned away to find something to eat. “Just turn me back as soon as you can. The less time spent as Twinky McTwinkerson, the better.”

Neither replied, both watching Dean storm out of the room in a huff. Both men turned, as one, to regard each other, Sam laughing a little as the angel let out a heavy sigh.

Cas spoke first, one eyebrow raised. “Was he like this as a teen?”

“No. I mean, he had a bit of a hero complex, and he flirted with girls a lot, but he was more reserved.” Shrugging, Sam turned back toward his things. “Think you can keep an eye on him while I take care of this?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes. I’ll try to keep him out of trouble.” With a smile he resting a hand on Sam’s shoulder, trying to reassure him. Moments later he was gone, seeing what Dean was getting up to in his new-found youth.

~!~

Days turned to weeks, with Sam trying his hardest to find and catch the witch. He spent as much time as possible away from the bunker, if only to keep away from his brother’s childishness and his extended rants. Dean’s increasing agitation was hard on everyone, but especially Sam, who he felt should be out there trying to find his, “tormentor”. Cas, naturally, stuck with Dean even at his worst moments, trying to keep the eldest hunter preoccupied as much as possible. It was trying on the angel’s everlasting patience.

"Fucking useless!” Dean shouted, pacing back and forth across the main room. “Why can’t you make me normal again, Cas? Angel mojo can’t get it up?” It was his usual argument, one Castiel was growing increasingly weary of; he wished Sam were here, at least then there would be someone else to bear Dean’s wrath with.

Holding his head, he rested a hand on the wall; his tie was loose and almost falling off his neck. By now, most of the buttons of his shirt had come undone, and his hair was a mess from running his fingers through it. He wondered if it was some trick of fate, having Dean Winchester tug at his strings like this.

The trenchcoat was in the elder (younger? Castiel’s dislike of witches was beginning to lean less on demonic deals for power and more on the singular issue of tense within the English language) Winchester’s hands, Castiel having wrapped it around him as a means of comfort. The angel didn’t expect to have the coat - something Cas himself had kept as a security blanket; something to be clung to as a last remnant of his vessel; a reminder of how much Dean cared, even - flung to the ground in a fit of childish rage.

Castiel was a patient being; he had dealt with enough temper tantrums from Dean Winchester - even when he was fully grown - to have proven that. But the way the hunter threw his most prized possession (his only real possession, if he was being honest with himself) to the ground like it meant nothing, and followed it up by stomping on it? It felt like Dean was purposely kicking him in the chest; the camel’s back had reached it’s proverbial breaking point, and Castiel was done with Dean’s behavior.

It seemed like no manner of punishment, from withholding treats to forcing the hunter to stay in his room for several hours at a time, was going to work.

In seconds he had Dean pinned to a wall with his power; the hunter’s eyes narrowed in defiance as he stared Castiel down.

“Enough is enough, Dean.” He moved in close, until he was invading the hunter’s precious personal space. Castiel could feel every harsh breath on his skin; he took Dean’s chin in hand and could feel the teen swallow hard. “You’ve been insufferable since your unfortunate transformation. If you’re going to act like a child, then father damnit, I will _treat_ you like one.”

That seemed to catch Dean’s attention. His eyes widened for a second before narrowing in challenge. Castiel smirked in response; if Dean wanted a challenge, he would give him one.

He reached for the human, tossing him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing (and to Castiel, he didn’t). Ignoring Dean’s muffled protests, he carted the teen toward his own room.

Once in, Cas sat down on the bed, rearranging the teen so that he was laying face-down on Castiel’s own lap. It took a few seconds for Dean to clue in, but once he did he began squirming, trying to fight his way off of Castiel’s lap. “What the _hell_ , Cas? I’m a grown man, not a friggin’ eight year old!”

“And yet, you’re acting like one. The coincidence is astounding.” The angel kept Dean pinned down with one hand, using the other (with only the barest hint of grace aiding his efforts) to remove the hunter’s too-loose pants - all in the name of easier access, of course.

“Panties.” Castiel smirked and cocked his brow, letting a finger trail along the edge of the panties, where pink fabric met the top of Dean’s right leg. “Really, Dean?”

The noise Dean made in response would have been alarming in any other situation; it was a cross between a growl and a squeak, not something Castiel had ever heard come out of the other man in their entire acquaintance. “I -” and Dean gasped, stuttering with nerves. “I like how they fit, okay?” The hunter kept squirming and struggling, face burning with embarrassment.

And even in this vulnerable position, Dean refused to admit that he was in the wrong. He refused to apologize for the hell he was putting Castiel and Sam through, or for damaging Castiel’s coat. He refused to acknowledge that Castiel was just as frustrated with the situation as Dean himself was - that they all were! Dean could not hunt like this, that much was certain.

The struggle grew with Dean kicking and even trying to bite at the angel; Castiel rolled his eyes and raised his right arm high above his head. A pause came to the fight as Castiel’s hand came down on Dean’s bared ass, sending a resounding clap echoing through the room (and the bunker).

The teen froze, staring ahead with mouth and eyes wide open. He didn't know how to react, and still hadn't figured it out when the next smack came down, ripping a cry from Dean's throat. Everything he was - everything he’d been trained for - screamed at him to get out and do something, to fight this injustice.

The other part of him, the small part that enjoyed panties and being flirted with, enjoyed the attention even if it was punishment. He'd never admit how incredibly hot it was to have Castiel, Angel of the motherfucking Lord, bending him over his knee and spanking him.

Even when the fifth smack came down (and Dean was already half-hard against Castiel’s thigh, the silk of his panties brushing against the backs of his legs), Dean wouldn’t admit it. Number six followed shortly after, and Dean threw his head back, biting his lip and gripping whatever he could find to steady, himself. He tried not to make a noise, but it was so _hard_.

He tried not to make a sound, instead letting tears trickle down his face, itching a path down to his chin. He squirmed in place, simultaneously desperate for Castiel to release him, punishment served, and to smack him again.

Smack number seven came then, pulling a high-pitched sound from between his lips and sending his spine arching as he squirmed in Castiel’s lap. His asscheeks were itching, a scorching heat building beneath the surface of his skin.

The tenth was followed by Cas stroking at his ass in soothing circles, gently massaging the cheeks and backs of his thighs. He could feel the angel’s eyes on the back of his head, and he refused to turn around and give him satisfaction.

He didn’t turn, not until he felt lips on his shoulder and a hand, strangely warm, moving between his thighs and teasing his cock. He gasped, managing to stutter out, “Cas?”

“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, Dean.”

That was all the warning Dean had before Cas removed his hand for a second, bringing it back down on Dean's reddened and tender ass again. He cried out in surprise; the squirming began again, mixed with an insistent grinding against Castiel's hip as he tried not to move back into each slap to his rear. By smack fifteen, he'd given in and buried his face into the bedding, whimpering pathetically and raising his ass into the air like a cat in heat, ready for more.

By eighteen he felt ready to explode. His ass was too tender, his thighs too sweaty and sticking to each other. It hurt but it was so good, and fuck if he didn't feel like he was about to come.

At twenty, Cas took Dean's cock in hand, forcing a surprised, high-pitched noise to slip out of his charge. “You didn’t come.” He sounded genuinely surprised, and to be honest the hunter was surprised himself. It took more willpower than Dean thought he possessed not to jackhammer his hips into Castiel's hand, eager for some form of release. Something. _Anything_.

The angel leaned in close, breathing hot against Dean’s ear as he slowly stroked Dean’s length. His breath tickled as he spoke. “You’ve been a good boy.” This was followed by a slow tug at Dean’s glans. “I think I can reward you.”

His length was released, and Dean automatically made a noise of protest. Cas hushed him; he understood why soon enough, when he felt something cold and wet being applied between his still-tender asscheeks.

“Cas -” Dean began. He was scared; not that he wasn’t familiar with having things shoved up his ass, nor that he didn’t want it (oh _God_ , he did).

This was going further than ever before; something they'd danced around but never really discussed out loud. It was a first for them, and he still looked like a goddamn twink.

Castiel shushed him again. “You can tell me if you want to stop, Dean. At any point.”

And because Dean trusted Cas, implicitly, he could feel his shoulders relax. Oh, he was still tense, sure, but Castiel's words had set him at ease. Dean fidgeted. “Can - uh - Can we change positions?” Dean prided himself on being a good lover, but with Cas you had to ask for what you wanted, and Dean couldn’t figure out an eloquent way to say, ‘I wanna suck your cock.’

“Hmm?” Cas inquired. Dean could hear the smirk in his voice, and he cursed him internally.

“I -” Dean swallowed before continuing. “Fuck, I want to suck your cock, okay?” It came out fast, his face flushing hot like a schoolgirl with a goddamn crush, and he licked his lips, squirming as he could feel Castiel’s gaze intensify.

He didn't really get a chance to look at Cas before the angel was flipping him over with a strength that shouldn't, after all of this time, have been so surprising to him. It felt almost instant, but within a few seconds he was looking Cas in the eyes, being kissed long and hard. "You need only ask, Dean," Cas breathed. He laughed lowly before moving the hunter again. Within a few seconds, the angel had wriggled out of his pants, baring a long, thick cock that had Dean's mouth watering. There was no prodding on Castiel's part; within a few seconds of that Dean's face was buried in Cas’ crotch.

There was no need to answer Cas, not when his prize was within touching distance. He dove in, taking the head into his mouth and hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked, hard. There's no need for words; the angel smirked and slipped his fingers back inside his charge, curling them as he stretched Dean out and made the teen squirm and buck. He moaned around Castiel's length, his jaw aching pleasantly.

It was an awkward position, but Cas was no mortal man; he unleashed the tiniest bit of his grace, letting it drag across Dean's prostate and making him choke off a scream in the back of his throat. The hunter bucked as he tried not to come all over the sheets, gripping Castiel's leg and panting, letting his cock slip from between his lips with a muted pop. Needy moans kept leaving him as he rocked back onto the fingers, biting his lip almost to bleeding as he fucked himself on Castiel's hand.

“The sounds you make,” Cas sighed, tracing empty designs into Dean’s skin with his free hand. “They’re beautiful, beloved.” Dean’s face grew bright red at that; he glanced up and noticed a fond smile on Castiel’s lips. Dean buried himself against the angel's chest, clutching him tight as his fingers scissored him open, stretching him for what felt like forever - and Dean was grateful, because if he didn't this was gonna fucking hurt.

“Cas -” Dean gasped, breathing into Castiel’s skin, his hips rotating.

“Yes, Dean?”

The hunter was pulled back, Castiel taking his chin in hand and lifting it, forcing their eyes to meet.

“I need you.” It came out as a low whine; Dean licked his lips, cleaning up the drool that had pooled at the corner of his mouth. “In me. Please.” He knew he sounded desperate, but by now he just didn’t care.

Smiling, Cas brushed a thumb over Dean's jaw; the hunter's lips formed a small 'o' as he took the thumb in his mouth, suckling gently. He wrapped his hands around Castiel's wrist, moaning like he was in heat.

"I believe you've made your point, Dean," the angel said. He sounded stern, but Dean knew him well enough at this point to understand that there was laughter there, too. He was proven correct when Cas stood up slightly, kicking his pants off the rest of the way and sitting back against the headboard.

Dean felt Cas pull him in close; the angel stripped him of his clothes, minus the panties (still stretched out over his thighs; if he was lucky, there'd be bruises there tomorrow morning - ah, no such luck. Cas pulled them back up over his hips before pulling him closer, forcing Dean to straddle the angel's own hips).

Cas pushed the panties out of the way, lining his cock up before he spoke. "Lower yourself," he ordered. "Show me how much you want it." The angel's tone went straight to Dean's dick; biting his lip, he flexed his thighs, lowering himself until he felt the head of Castiel's cock brush against his entrance. He reached down, his fingers tangling with Castiel's as he held his length steady, inching slowly downward. Before long, he was seated fully in the angel's lap, his cock stretching him out, filling him in a way that was bordering on painful and exquisite.

Dean whimpered, hips twitching, before he remembered himself and pressed his lips together tight. This didn't last long; Cas leaned in and kissed him hard, tearing another whimper from the depths of his throat. Dean's back arched, forcing him toward the other's chest as he sucked on Castiel's bottom lip.

Dean rocked back slowly, his hips setting a slow, easy pace and forcing Castiel's length to inch in and out of him. He surprised himself by breathing eagerly against the other's lips, his arms draping over his shoulders. Suddenly, Cas had pinned his hips in place, gripping him with almost bruising ferocity, before he thrust his own hips and hard and forcing a gasp out of the younger man. His eyes flew open, struggling to breathe as the angel leaned in, sucking a bruise onto his throat before moving on to greener pastures. Dean's nails scrambled along Castiel's chest, marking him with angry red welts as he bounced in time with each thrust, trying to take more and more from the angel with every motion.

“Cas. Cas, _oh fuck_ -” Shuddering, he blinked, staring into Cas' eyes with his mouth wide, breathing hard.

Cas twitched his hips again, and suddenly his cock was pressing right against Dean's prostate. “Do you like that, beloved?”

Dean could only open his mouth in answer, breathing hard. Cas smirked, leaning in to nibble at Dean's neck once more, feeling along Dean's chest and sides with his fingertips. They found a nipple; experimentally, he snagged one and then the other between thumb and forefinger, twisting and tugging as he bit down on Dean's skin. "I like you like this, Dean. Pliant. Pretty. Begging for me. It suits you."

Dean's reply was garbled and unintelligible; the hunter wrapped his arms around Castiel, dragging his nails along the angel's back as he moved with him - fucking himself down on Castiel's length. "'M close. So close, Cas." They were the only words Dean could form through the noises he was making.

“Then come for me.” He breathed it low and hot against the hunter’s ear, giving one last upward thrust that had Dean’s body bowing, limbs slack. His come oozed, drenching the front of his panties.

The angel was still hard; Dean stared at him with tired eyes, riding along with Castiel's shallow thrusts. "Mmm, Cas -"

Castiel shushed Dean, holding him by the hips for a moment before tensing, his fingernails digging into the tender skin there. The angel's eyelashes fluttered slightly as he came, hips twitching, and Dean moaned at the sight before leaning in and pressing his lips to Castiel's.

They came down from the rush, their hearts slowing as they kissed, breath almost stilling before Dean spoke.

"That was awesome."

Castiel rolled his eyes, but he carefully didn't remove his hands from Dean's hips. "I believe you might have enjoyed it too much to take it seriously as a punishment."

Dean laughed. "Shut up, Cas."

Castiel's eyes took on a dangerous glint, and he smirked. "Keep it up, Dean, and I may have to resort to another spanking to make my point." Dean went quiet at that, leaning forward to rest his head on the angel's chest, reveling in the low throb in his extremities and the feeling of Castiel's softening cock inside him.

Castiel knew that Dean was trying to think of ways to test his patience, to earn that spanking. It should frustrate him, but if he was being honest - which he usually was - he found himself looking forward to it. Dean was, after all, creative if nothing else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely ireallyhatecornnuts over on tumblr! Written (and long over due) for tumblr user itisneverlupus' birthday!

Dean didn’t know how long they’d been resting, only that his entire body ached pleasantly once they parted. He rode on a high for an hour; it could only last so long though, and when he crashed he burned.

The fight was big, both screaming at the other, teetering on the edge of violence but neither making a move beyond shouts of anger. Dean had started it by taking his frustrations out on Castiel again, making backhanded comments that made the angel bristle.

The angel knew he’d need to try something new; thus, when Sam returned it was to a mostly-quiet bunker and a silent Castiel, watching television from the couch.

Sam looked around the room. “Where’s Dean?”

The angel glanced up at him. “He’s in his room.” Sam waited, but Cas didn’t continue.

“That’s weird. I thought he’d be out here with you.”

Cas smirked. “He would be, but he’s in - ah - time out.”

“ _What_?” Sam blurted out. He looked from Castiel’s face to the door of Dean’s room, eyes wide.

Castiel shrugged. “He’s acting like a child, so he’s receiving a child’s punishment. He’s in time out. My other methods of reasoning with him weren't what you could call successful. I think it's cabin fever or adolescent hormones; possibly some mix of the two." Cas sighed, leaning back into the couch. "We argued, and it wasn't pleasant. I vastly prefer him post-coitus.”

"P-post-coitus?" Sam stuttered, choking on the words. Dean. Plus Castiel. Plus _coitus_. No, actually, this wasn't an equation that Sam wanted the answer to right now.

He startled for one second at the knocking coming from Dean’s bedroom door. Cas shifted, sitting up in his seat to regard the door with amusement. "An hour; far longer than I expected. Especially seeing as I removed all of the electronics from the room. Not much of a punishment if he enjoys it." A secretive smirk crossed his face as he remembered Dean's earlier spanking.

Sam blanched slightly at the sly look on the angel's face. "Dude, I don't want to know."

He was interrupted by Dean's bedroom door opening; his brother stuck his teenaged head out and managed to look appropriately chastised. He batted his eyelashes at Castiel. "Can I come out now?"

Cas nodded in answer, a small smile quirking his lips; Sam was surprised to see Dean beeline directly for the angel, curling up in his lap. The look Cas shot the hunter suggested that perhaps his time would be better spent elsewhere, in search of a counter-spell.

"I'll be down in the library; found some books last run-through that might have some answers," Sam said, backing out of the room slowly. “Holler if you need me?”

Sam couldn't make out Dean's muttered answer, as it was spoken into the angel's chest; Cas just nodded, his attention entirely on the teen in his lap and his smile fond.

Later, when Sam checked in on them again, their positions had changed only slightly; Castiel's legs had come up to rest on the couch and curled around Dean's body while he held the teen. Apparently, the angel had decided that Dean wasn't at risk for another temper tantrum, as at some point he'd switched the channel over. By now, Sam knew the intro music for Dr. Sexy, MD by heart.

The two of them made an unusually adorable image, and Sam had to remind himself not to smirk at them as he spoke. "There’s a few things I’ve gotta check out in town, but I’ll be back before dinner, alright?"

"Sure thing," Dean said, raising his head up in acknowledgement of his brother. He waved goodbye as Sam left; mentally, he was already preparing dinner.

Moving to sit up, he made it about halfway before Castiel stopped him, pulling him closer to his own body. Sam was safely gone now, so Dean reached down and took one of Cas' hands, kissing the knuckles. "You know, sometimes I miss having your mark on my arm."

Castiel's return smile had just a hint of predatory possessiveness to it. He wrapped his right arm around his charge, gripping his shoulder tight and coming close to lick at Dean's neck. "You miss having my mark?"

The hunter grabbed Cas' arm, eyes closing; he felt dangerously breathless as the angel licked at the pulse point beneath his ear, and only just managed to get out, "I could always get a tattoo."

Castiel, mouth still pressed to the skin of Dean's neck, made a low sound of agreement. He dragged his thumb along Dean's upper arm, murmuring, "That could be nice. We could pay a visit to a tattoo parlor when you're physically closer to your age again."

Nodding, Dean curled up closer to the angel, sighing in contentment as the angel began pressing kisses to his skin.

"I like the idea," Castiel muttered, tracing kisses up and down his jugular. "Of my mark on you, willingly taken."

Dean squirmed slightly as Cas began nibbling at his ear, before he pulled back. "I gotta get started on dinner."

"There's time," Cas pointed out, pressing a kiss to the juncture of Dean's shoulder and neck; the hunter's skin broke out in goosebumps even as he struggled to escape.

In a maneuver that Dean impressed even himself with, he twisted out of the angel's grip, coming to stand before him with his hands on his hips. "The burgers gotta thaw and I'm gonna surprise Sammy with a salad. You just - wait here, alright?" Cas looked disappointed, and hoping to soothe his angel, Dean leaned in. He pressed his lips to Castiel's, dodging another attempt to pull him back into his lap. "After dinner. And can we maybe try not mentally scarring Sam? The kid's gonna have a therapy bill that'd make Paul McCartney shit a brick."

Cas frowned. "I don't understand. Humans have been intimate with each other since the dawn of time; how would our own intimacy scar your brother?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Just trust me on this, Sam doesn't want to see me naked." He leered at Cas. "Or know that your cock is bigger than his."

The angel arched an eyebrow, choosing (for the moment) not to comment on the size of his vessel's penis. Accepting that Dean would not be cuddling with him any longer, he leaned back into the couch. "I'll be here if you need my assistance."

Dean nodded; he gave Cas his trademarked shit-eating grin before disappearing into the kitchen.

Castiel was an angel, billions of years old, and yet the minutes while Dean was in the kitchen passed slowly. He found himself growing restless the longer he wasn't in contact with the other man; it was one thing when he'd placed the teenager in time out, but quite another when he was within reach and not being punished. He stood, abandoning the television to play yet another, "Toddlers & Tiaras," rerun.

When he arrived in the kitchen, it was to find that the meat was already thawing in the sink, and the salad was ready and covered in a bowl. At the center of the kitchen stood Dean, looking down at the apple pie the two of them had baked earlier. The teen's tongue darted out, sending a brief shiver of want down the angel's spine, licking a path across his plush lips.

Castiel caught himself, instead focusing on the fact that Dean was currently working at cutting a slice of the pie: the very pie that had been taken from him as punishment. Striding toward the teen, Cas caught him right as he was raising a forkful of pie to his lips, wrapping an arm around his charge's waist. "Is this or isn't this the pie that I told you not to eat?"

Dean tensed, lips wrapped around the tines of the fork; his eyes went wide as he stared straight ahead. Cas couldn't see the hunter's face clearly, but he could tell exactly what he was thinking. The teen swallowed hard and set the fork down, twisting in Castiel's hold.

"That was this morning. I - I thought I could have some now."

"I told you that you couldn't have any today. Not even for dessert." Castiel paused, considering. "Plus, you'll spoil your dinner."

"But it's _pie_!" Dean said, like that somehow forgave his transgression.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile coming over his face. With no warning, he slapped Dean's still-tender ass, drawing the smallest of noises from the teenager.

Dean jumped, gripping the counter so hard Castiel thought he might have left small, half-moon impressions where his fingernails were. Pain stirred as the teen tried hard not to whimper again; he didn’t want Cas to stop because he thought it was too much.

He gasped lightly, trying to get his breathing under control. "Sorry. I can put it away if you want." He chewed on his bottom lip before glancing over his shoulder: the angel was paying attention to Dean's jean-clad ass rather than his face. Castiel reached around to the teen's front, undoing the button and zipper before sliding the pants down.

Taking his time, Castiel lowered himself behind Dean, hands roaming over the youths’ form as he placed gentle kisses along the hunters’ body. Eventually he found himself squatting behind Dean, taking in the view of his freckled ass cheeks with a fond smile. Moving his attention upwards for a moment, the angel pressed his lips to the base of Dean's spine; the kiss made the hunter shiver, his skin breaking out in goosebumps.

"I suppose you could have some pie," Castiel said, his breath ghosting over Dean's ass. "It's only fair, as I'll be having dessert before dinner, too." Unceremoniously, Cas pushed the panties down and out of the way before making his way to Dean's much-abused hole, licking and kissing as he spread the teen's asscheeks for greater access.

The teen clung to the counter, helplessly shivering; the urge to protest was there, but how could he even consider functioning? Castiel's tongue, licking carefully along the rim of his hole, robbed him of any semblance of coherent speech.

He could feel Cas' tongue, sliding inside of him centimeter by centimeter; could feel the angel's thumbs on either side of his entrance, holding the teen open for his own perusal. And Dean knew, instinctively, that he still tasted and smelled like sex, and Cas was drinking it up.

A shift in the other man’s balance was the only warning Dean had before there was suddenly six foot of sex-haired angel draped over him, pressing their lips together; he could taste himself on Cas' tongue and it pulled a groan out of him. The teen opened his mouth wider, dragging his tongue along Castiel's and breathing in deep through his nose, taking in every taste, every _smell_ that made up his angel.

Cas slid his hand down Dean's ass, slipping two fingers into his hole. Dean gasped, breaking the kiss and breathing hard, panting short, hot breaths against the angel's collarbone. The next noise the hunter let out was broken and high-pitched; Castiel smirked in response, sucking lightly on the teens’ bottom lip. His free hand moved toward the table, taking a small bit of the pie and dragging it along his lips; the angel watched hungrily as Dean moaned in response. " _Taste it_ ," he urged.

Dean had little say in the matter; once his mouth opened, the pie filling pushed past his lips, forcing him to suck on Castiel's fingers through every moan and whine. Cas has been here before, knows all the spots to make Dean shudder; all the buttons to push to make him quake in place. The angel can play him like a fine-tuned instrument, and Dean's never been more thankful for it than right now. It has him thrusting his hips forward, rutting into the empty air, so close to coming except Cas - damn him - keeps dragging him back from the edge.

And there - that bastard is cheating, an invisible ring of angel mojo forming around the base of his cock, pressing in and holding off his orgasm.

" _Cas_ ," Dean sobbed, as the angel pulled his fingers from the teen's mouth. He pressed back with his hips, fucking himself down on Castiel's fingers while his own gripped the counter hard.

Cas shoved the pie to the side, out of the way, leaning over to kiss one clothed shoulder; he wished he could taste the freckled skin beneath the shirt, but he knew he'd get there soon enough. "Keep still, Dean. Have you ever known me to leave a job unfinished?"

Cas moved back behind him, pulling his cock out as he went; within seconds the blunt head was nudging against his hole, magic easing the way and slicking Dean up as Cas slid his length inside. The angel pushed, leaving Dean bent over the hard surface in front of him and feeling like his skin was too tight, like he was too full; food, kitchen implements, and cleaning supplies went scattering out of the way as Cas began to move, dragging Dean's form with him.

He moaned, breathless words of praise falling from his lips, all aimed at the angel behind him. "Cas, oh fuck, _Cas_ , yes!"

Castiel was pleased; he leaned forward, kissing along Dean's shoulder and neck, where he sucked another mark onto the hunter's skin.

He gripped Dean's hips tight, his own hips thrusting at a pace that left the young hunter breathless; on a whim, the angel bit down on the skin in front of him (gently for him; probably a touch too hard for the human in his charge). He prodded the now-bruised skin with his tongue, tasting as much of the teen as he could without drawing blood. He relished every taste, sound, touch; this was theirs, just between the two of them, and no one could steal it away.

He'd just had that thought when he heard the bunker door open; it wasn't loud, and Dean was still lost in pleasure, his head thrown back against Castiel's shoulder. The angel paused slightly, torn between saving Sam the display or focusing on Dean.

Dean won out - Dean _always_ won out - and he continued thrusting, one hand reaching out to stroke at the hunter’s cock enthusiastically. He thumbed the head, experimentally, and relished the noise that the teen made in response.

“ _Dean_!”

The sound Sam made was a mix of surprise and disgust; both Castiel and Dean stilled, turning to face him. His brother looked stricken; Cas, however, looked like the cat that got the canary.

Sam made a face. He was stuck in that weird spot where he alternately wanted to cross his arms defensively and put his hands on his hips in anger. He settled with clenching his fists and blurting out, "In the kitchen? _Seriously_? We cook here, guys!"

Cas pulled out, turning to face the younger Winchester while cocking an eyebrow. Oh god, _cock_. Sam averted his eyes. Don't think of the word cock. Or dick. Or anything even remotely phallic. He let his eyes settle on a bowl of salad.

"We didn't make a mess," Cas said, a smirk beginning to bloom across his lips. "Neither of us has reached climax yet."

“ _Cas_!” Dean let out a pained groan; folding his arms on the counter, he buried his face in them theatrically.

Sam reluctantly allowed his gaze to turn back to the angel, who was standing before him, dick out and, uh, extra happy. And then Sam sighed, because this was his life. "You know what? If you two can't be considerate enough to lock yourself in _your room_ for this, I'm not gonna be considerate either. I'll be in the living room. When you two are _done being assholes_ , we can talk about what I found interviewing the one contact." With that, the youngest Winchester threw his hands up, absolving himself of responsibility and turning to exit the kitchen - to get anywhere that wasn't the place his brother and an _angel of the lord_ weren't fucking like rabbits.

Dean groaned and looked over his shoulder, toward Cas. "Should we go to my room?"

Castiel smiled, wicked and seductive, as he moved back in behind the hunter again. He leaned down, his breath ghosting against the shell of Dean's ear. "He left us the kitchen. It would be a shame to waste a gift like that." The angel chuckled as he lined himself up, pushing back into Dean slowly.

"You _ass_ ," Dean mewled, arching his back. Cas rolled his hips and the hunter's toes curled. "I'm starting to think you just like freaking him out."

Castiel made a considering grunt, in time with a thrust that made Dean moan and shudder. "It's a possibility," he admitted. "He'll have to get used to it in any case." The angel leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the side of Dean's jaw. "I doubt a return to your normal form will change the fact that I love you, nor that I want my hands on you as often as possible." This was murmured into Dean's ear, quietly, before the angel's lips drifted away to press a string of kisses down the hunter's jaw, neck, and shoulder.

Dean bit his lip, moaning as he pushed back with his hips, meeting Cas' thrusts. He gasped as the angel reached down, taking his cock in hand and stroking it firmly. "I want you to come, Dean," Cas said, his voice low and hot against the hunter's ear.

That, coupled with a few accurately-placed thrusts of Cas' cock, were enough to push Dean head-on into his orgasm, come splattering on his feet, the floor, and the cabinet as his back bowed and his mouth opened in a silent scream. He spasmed violently, muscles twitching, and he dragged Cas with him, pushing the angel off the edge; the knowledge that he was now full of the angel's come was enough to make Dean's entire body twitch one last time before he slumped over the counter, spent.

They were still for several moments, Dean's come cooling on his feet, their hearts slowing down to something close to normal. The hunter tried to pull himself back together, his breath short, racing; it was a while before he was able to look over his shoulder at his angel and ask the question that was on his mind, that had been bugging him for days.

"So, what you said," Dean said, face flushing. "When I'm, you know. Back to normal. You'll still be interested?"

Cas stared at his charge, his expression guileless. "Dean, I went billions of years obeying Heaven's directives and I gave all of that up for you. I doubt that I'll ever be able to lose interest in you," he said, his voice honest and loving, with a note of finality at the end.

Dean smiled, twisting in place to press a kiss to the corner of Castiel's mouth.

"Good," he said.


End file.
